Quinn the Brain and Daria the Beauty
by TheQueenofBooks1000
Summary: It always seemed like Daria and Quinn had no hope of getting along. Or is there? Sisters switching bodies, next...on Sick, Sad World.
1. Brewing Trouble

**Hi. This is my first story for Daria. I hope I do okay with it.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE TV SHOW DARIA OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS.**

* * *

"Oh, thank God," Helen Morgendorffer sighed in relief as she entered her warm and soothing house. Today was an especially hectic day at work. Eric was pissed about something, there was a humongous load of documents, and her assistant Marianne was absent, which Helen wouldn't let her get away with scot-free.

She removed her high-heeled shoes and collapsed on the couch. She was about to doze off when...

"Mom! Tell Daria to get her butt out of my life!"

"That's interesting, Quinn, I didn't know it was possible to get my butt into your life without any medical help," Daria countered, flatly yet loudly.

"Just shut up, brain! Mo-om!"

Helen covered her face with her hands. _Just ignore it, and it will go away, _she thought.

"I swear, Daria, if you ruin my life again..."

"If you ask me, your existence did that for you already."

"What's THAT supposed to mean?"

Helen couldn't take it anymore. "Daria! Quinn!" she shouted. "You girls get in here this instant!"

Quinn entered, looking cross. Daria, whose face was normally devoid of emotion, looked uncharacteristically irritated. This must be a worse argument than Helen had thought.

"All right," she said sternly. "What's the matter now?"

"Well, see, there's this really huge concert that I'm going to, with Sandi and Stacy and Tiffany and Joey and Jeffy and Jeremy or whatever his name is—anyway, I have a huge problem."

"Lack of commas?" Daria offered quietly.

"Daria's going, too!" Quinn exclaimed. "I mean, couldn't she just stay here at home and read or whatever? It's not like she actually needs to come!"

"I told you," Daria said slowly in hope that her sister would understand, "it's an assignment for Mr. O'Neill's class."

Mildly curious, Helen forgot her anger for a moment and asked, "What kind of assignment requires attending a concert?"

"Exactly!" Quinn cried.

"Quiet, Quinn," Helen snapped. "Well?" she asked, looking at Daria.

"The assignment is something about going out of your comfort zone," Daria elaborated. "During the weekend, we have to go to a place that we would consider as torture. And since this place that I'm talking about involves a hundred sweaty, screaming people cramped together in one space with some cheesy singer on stage, how could I resist?"

"What are you _talking _about?" Quinn asked. "A concert is fun! You should be going to something gross, like a sewer or something. Ooh, or even worse, the public library!"

"Girls!" Helen interrupted as she saw Daria's lips forming a sarcastic retort. "This is hardly a problem. Quinn, like what Daria said, there are a lot of people in there. You probably wouldn't even see each other!"

"I doubt that," Quinn said. "She's probably going to embarrass me in front of that cute new guy Ben." Momentarily forgetting her anger, she continued dreamily, "Ben has the blondest hair ever. Plus, his family owns a limo company, which will make our dates even cooler!"

"I'm sure. It will be so cool, passersby will be in danger of pneumonia," Daria said.

Quinn snapped out of her limo dream and glowered at her sister. "Just stay away from me!"

The two sisters stormed off separately to their respective rooms.

As a mother, Helen would never admit it, but she would be glad to get away from her two children, at least for a while.

Just then, a voice broke the momentary silence. "Honey? Are you still going to make dinner? 'Cause I saw this really nice recipe in the Food Network—"

Helen groaned and ran to the kitchen before Jake managed to set the entire house on fire. _Make that three children, _she thought irritably to herself.

* * *

Daria and Quinn remained in their rooms, yet neither of them were able to sleep. They just lay there, tossing and turning.

At around 1:30, Daria couldn't take it anymore. She sat up and pushed her duvet away. Yawning tiredly, she groped for her glasses on the nightstand and stood up, heading for the kitchen. Maybe a glass of milk will help her fall asleep.

She just opened the fridge when someone let out a bloodcurdling scream. Daria dropped the milk carton. Warily, she flipped the lights open and was surprised to see her wild-eyed sister staring back at her.

"Quinn?" Daria asked, perplexed. "What the hell were you doing in the dark?"

"What the hell were _you _doing in the dark?" Quinn countered, rubbing her eyes.

Daria looked at the puddle of milk at her feet. "As the evidence suggests, I was getting a drink," she deadpanned. Sighing, she grabbed the paper towels from the counter and started wiping the floor. "You're lucky you didn't wake up Mom and Dad. You sounded like you were being tortured. If I hadn't known any better, I would've said you were practicing for the concert."

Quinn sighed. "That is actually when I will be tortured," she groused. "By my sister, no less."

Daria rolled her eyes. "As a matter of fact, Quinn, I'm going to go easy on you and let you choose. Would you like to be quartered or guillotined?"

Sullen silence filled the kitchen for a few moments, in which Daria finished drinking her milk and Quinn finished reading an article of a magazine that someone left on the counter.

"So why are you awake?" Daria asked finally. "Aren't you worried that you'll get bags under your eyes or something?"

Quinn anxiously placed her fingers under her eyes. "I'm not, am I?"

"Oh, don't worry. They couldn't be more visible if you hold a magnifying glass to your face."

"Thank God," Quinn sighed in relief, not realizing that she had just been dissed.

Daria tried to hide a contemptuous smirk from her face. She yawned openly and placed her glass in the sink. "I better go," she said.

"About time," Quinn mumbled, not looking up from a glossy page devoted to shoes.

Little did they know the surprise in store for them in the morning.

La la la la la...

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**Chapter two, comin' up. Review!**


	2. Fashion Fiasco

**Hey, here's the next chapter. Enjoy.**

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING AS CLEVERLY CONSTRUCTED AS THE TV SERIES DARIA.**

* * *

Quinn yawned and opened her eyes.

Instead of her glorious room of fashionable pinkness, a different room greeted her. Quinn frowned. Now that she thought about it, she didn't remember leaving the kitchen at all. She had a vague memory of reading a copy of _Vogue _while drinking a cup of herbal tea—which did wonders for her skin, by the way. It stops acne from destroying her flawless face.

Quinn shuddered at the thought of a pimple-covered face, then snapped back to the present. Her eyes were blurry, so she blinked. And blinked again.

Nothing. The world still remained a blurry haze.

Confused, Quinn rubbed her eyes. Maybe the lack of sleep affected her eyes. Damn, they better not be all bloodshot. Bloodshot eyes are _so _gross.

She shrugged and and got out of bed, making her way to the huge rectangular thing that she assumed was the door.

On her way there, Quinn tripped over something square, which she thought was a shoebox, but when she picked it up, she was surprised to see that it was a book. Squinting, she held the book near her face and tried to read the title.

"Atlas...Shrugged. Is this thing really a book? Why is it so, like, _thick_?" she wondered aloud.

Her eyes flew open in surprise at how deep and...well, croaky her voice was. _Whoa, no more herbal tea for me!_

For the first time, Quinn took in her surroundings. Gray walls. A desk and a chair at a corner.

_Well, that explains the book,_ Quinn thought. _But why am I in _Daria's _room?_

Quinn quickly stood up from the floor and ran to the door, tripping even more over some other books. She needed to get out of there before she got some 'brain' vibes.

* * *

Daria groaned as the sunlight hit her face. For some reason, it shone even brighter than usual.

She didn't even bother opening her eyes. The last thing she needed was to get blinded—well, even _more _than her already horrible vision—by the annoyingly cheerful sun, which signifies the dawning of another day of pointlessness.

Eyes mostly closed, she felt her way around the room until she reached the door. Then she headed for the bathroom.

When she was halfway out the hall, she opened her eyes. Instead of facing the door to the bathroom, she was facing the door to _her _room.

Daria muttered, "That's bizarre."

Yawning, she opened the door and headed straight for her bed. It was probably the universe telling her to go back to sleep because there's nothing to miss for today. Not that she cared what the universe thought.

Just as she slammed the door shut to her room, Quinn blindly made her way from the bathroom to her own bedroom. Feeling adventurous, she grabbed a tube of red lipstick from her dresser instead of her usual pink lip gloss. Just when she was about to turn to her mirror to apply it on her lips, the doorbell rang.

Quinn stood still for a minute, waiting for someone else to get it. Then she heard her dad yell, "Can someone get that? I'm busy doing something here!"

She sighed and headed for the staircase while trying to line her lips with the tube...

...and then she tripped, because of her strangely blurry vision.

Her eyes widened as she stumbled headfirst to about three steps, the lipstick accidentally spreading to her chin.

"Ow!" Quinn shrieked, clutching her forehead, where she had brutally landed. Thankfully, they had some carpeting on the living room floor...or she could've gotten a bruise that no amount of foundation can cover.

In a flash, Jake appeared from the kitchen, looking alarmed. His face exhibited utter shock at the sight of his daughter lying on the floor and quickly ran to her side.

"Kiddo?" Jake said hesitantly. His daughter's eyes just stared back at him, flustered. Jake gasped in horror when he saw red on her mouth and chin.

"Helen! Call an ambulance! Daria's bleeding!"

The doorbell rang again.

"Daria?" Quinn repeated. "What do you mean—" through her hazy state, she made out flames on the hem of Jake's apron, inching upwards. "Oh, my God, Dad!" she shouted. "You're on fire!"

"I'm on—GAHHH! Helen! Quinn! Help!"

"I'm right here," Quinn muttered confused. Helen rushed outside of her room wearing only her skirt and a bra. She noted her panicking husband, who was wearing a flaming "Kiss the Cook" apron. She calmly took the fire extinguisher they she had purchased _after _Jake had set their house on fire before. **(A/N This, obviously, is a reference of the episode "Fire!", but let's look at it in an angle _without _Tom Sloane.)**

"Jake," Helen began sternly.

Jake gulped as he stood there, half-covered in white fluff and smelled of burnt hotdogs. "Sorry?" When Helen's eyebrows ceased to go up, he said indignantly, "Well, if only my old man had taught me a thing about fire safety, this would never have happened! But, nooo! He didn't even lift a finger when the campfire explo—"

"Ew!" Quinn interrupted, feeling horrified at witnessing her mother in her undergarments. Helen sighed and looked at her daughter's red-streaked face. "What happened to you, sweetie?"

"Lipstick," Quinn said, holding out the half-smushed tube.

This time, Helen's eyebrows lifted. "Oh? Well, it's...great that you're becoming more conscious of your appearance. You're a very pretty girl, after all."

"Of course I am!" Quinn chirped, brushing her hair behind her ear. "I mean, I don't look really cute in yellow, but..."

Helen stared at her for a moment. "Are you feeling alright, Daria?"

"Dammit, Helen!" Jake shouted. "She fell down the stairs! Of course she's not alright!" Helen gave her husband an evil look, and he shut up.

Quinn scowled. "Other than my perfectly moisturized forehead possibly acquiring an _unfashionable _bruise, I'm okay...hey, wait, what do you mean...Daria?"

The doorbell rang, for the third time.

They all heard a door creak open upstairs, and Daria stood at the top of the staircase. "Is anyone planning to open—" She saw her sister and abruptly stopped talking, her eyes turning huge behind her glas—wait a minute, she _wasn't _wearing glasses.

So how come she can see everything clearly?

Swallowing, she ran to the bathroom and headed straight for the mirror. A glimpse at herself confirmed her worst fears.

Daria sank down on the bathroom floor. "I'm Quinn," she muttered. "Either hell just got a bit colder, or I am in desperate need of a shrink."

Downstairs, she heard her sister's voice—or rather, her own voice—scream.

Daria winced. "Screw the shrink. Hell just turned into Antarctica."

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**I apologize to those who are Daria/Tom shippers, but Tom isn't in this fic. Sorry, I'm just not a huge fan of Tom. Please review!**


	3. In Her Shoes

**Hey, guys. I appreciate the reviews. Here is chapter three.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OTHER THAN THIS FANFICTION.**

* * *

"So," Daria said, sitting on her sister's bed uncomfortably. "Any idea on how the hell this happened?"

Quinn, who was sitting next to her, didn't answer.

"Quinn...?"

"I just can't believe it," Quinn said, shaking her head. "This is freaking me out."

"Really? That one attempt to lock yourself in the cupboard sure didn't clue me in."

Their parents, concerned with their children's horrifying meltdowns, allowed them to stay at home. Quinn spent two hours bawling and yelling stuff like, "Now, no boys are going to take me out to Chez Pierre or anywhere! Because I'm a...a...brain!" while Daria silently read five books during the time, not willing to risk losing brain cells while residing in Quinn's body.

It was very unusual to see Daria crying or showing any kind of emotion whatsoever, and even more unusual to see Quinn reading something other than _Waif_, so Helen and Jake concluded that their behavior was caused by whatever the thing Jake cooked last night was...and that led to a loud argument that ended with Helen and Jake driving away angrily to their respective offices.

"No," Quinn said. "I mean, look at your hair!" Quinn grabbed a lock of Daria's hair, with Daria's hands. "How do you even _get _this much split ends? Well, it's a good thing I'm going to be washing your hair from now on." She let out a dramatic sigh. "You should be grateful, Daria. I'm going to waste an entire can of hairspray for you, just so your hair will stop looking like pelt."

"Nothing like a good ol' bottle of chemicals to make your hair look fresh n' fabulous," Daria said dryly.

Quinn looked at her sister and recoiled, freaking herself out at staring at herself.

"Stop staring at me—um, yourself," Daria commanded. "Trust me, it wouldn't lessen your chances of getting a spot in the nearby asylum."

"This is hopeless," Quinn moaned, brushing aside an auburn strand and straightening her glasses. "How are we going to school tomorrow? More importantly, how are you going to act like me?" Her eyes brightened. "Hey, I still have Dr. Shar's number! Maybe we could—"

"As much as I hate to burst your bubble," Daria said flatly, "the last thing I need is some plastic bags attached to parts of my body."

"Well, I guess," Quinn sighed, reluctantly letting go of the idea. "Besides, Brooke's nose still looks totally _not _cute right now, even if she had it done again."

The doorbell rang.

"That's probably Ben! We have a date at six!" Quinn cried, leaping up. Glancing at Daria, she said, "You check it out, just in case."

Daria shrugged and trudged down the stairs, Quinn closely following behind her.

The guy who stood at the doorstep had slick blond hair and blue eyes. "Hey, Quinn," he said, smiling suavely. "Ready to go?"

"Sure. Just let me go get my purse," Daria said. "I think that's where I left my brain."

"_DARIA!_" Quinn shrieked. "I mean, Quinn," she quickly said, catching herself. "Yeah, um, Quinn, can I see you for a moment, Quinn? Because, like, it's really important, Quinn."

Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Daria's arm and pulled her to the kitchen. "We'll get you some water, Ben!" Quinn called over her shoulder.

"Subtle, aren't you," Daria said, amused despite herself.

"Shut up," Quinn snapped. "Look, you need to go to out with him. Just this once! Or else he wouldn't be bringing me to the concert!"

"Mm-hmm," Daria said, crossing her arms. "Hey, you know something Quinn? I think Ben would really like to know about some particularly _brainy_ non-distant relatives..."

Quinn stared, horrified. "You wouldn't!"

"Wanna bet, _sis_?" Daria asked, letting the tiniest smirk flit across her mouth.

Quinn groaned. "Twenty dollars."

"Boy, remember that one time when you accidentally dyed your hair green? Because I think I still have pictures somewhere in my drawer—"

"Dammit!" Quinn screeched. "Okay, fifty bucks."

"Done." Smirking, Daria made her way to the door.

"Wait!" Quinn yelped. "You can't go out dressed like that."

Daria allowed herself to be dragged by her sister, who gave her some clothes and slathered some makeup haphazardly on her face. "Hurry up," she hissed.

Luckily for Quinn, Ben was still there, his eyes glued to a football game on TV.

"Ben!" Quinn exclaimed. "I'm—uh, my _cousin_ Quinn is ready."

"Cool," Ben said. He slipped an arm around Daria's waist. "Come on, Quinn."

Quinn caught Daria's eye and mouthed, "Behave!"

Daria just rolled her eyes and exited with Quinn's date.

* * *

Before Quinn could retreat to her room, the doorbell rang again. Worriedly expecting Ben coming back to return Daria for screwing up the date _this _early, she was relieved to see Daria's friend Jane Lane standing on the porch.

"Oh, it's just you," Quinn sighed in relief. "What do you want?"

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Not the friendliest greeting I received today, but I'll accept." She brushed past Quinn and set her backpack on the coffee table.

Quinn looked exasperated. "Seriously, what are you doing here?"

Jane glanced at her from the couch without much emotion. "If I remember correctly, you promised to help me study for the finals," Jane replied. "Just because you were absent today doesn't mean you're off the hook, pal. Now let's go hit these books before one of them starts hitting me."

"Oh, hell," Quinn groaned. As of things weren't crazy enough. She didn't need Daria's weird art friend rubbing geekiness off on her, too. "Hey, um, look, Jen—"

"Jane."

"Whatever! I'm not even a senior yet, and most importantly, _I'm _not a brain. So, like, me helping you with your homework will probably get you an F."

Jane was beginning to feel confused. "Have you been kidnapped by aliens and replaced with a synthetic "Daria" or, more likely, have you been drinking?"

"Like I'd do that!" Quinn sniffed, tossing her hair dramatically. "Do you know the effect of that on your skin? And ugh, people do weird stuff when they're wasted. _I _have a reputation to maintain, thank you!"

Jane gave her friend a searching look. She looked the same as usual, except that her eyes were much wider than the narrow, calculating stare she always had behind her glasses and her hair was a royal mess. Maybe Daria really was out sick today.

Jane began stuffing her books back in her bag. "You know what, Daria, get some sleep. Maybe Trent knows something about physics." Shaking her head as she left the Morgendorffer house, she mumbled, "And maybe I can sprout wings and get married to Kevin."

"See you later, Jean!" Quinn called after her, and slammed the door shut with a sigh. As she went back to the comfort of her room, she forlornly wondered how her sister was handling the date with a really cute and rich owner of a limo company.

La la la la la...

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**Please review! :)**


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